An English Transfer Student's Life in America
by MitchGlitch
Summary: Arthur, an eighteen year old transfer student from England, is running away from his past. Once he arrives in America, he meets a cheerful teenager named Alfred. Together, they both find out what is is like to love someone. (The summary isn't too good, please read! It's kind of slow in the beginning, but it will get better later on, I promise! Oh, and this is my first fanfic!)
1. Chapter 1: Meeting Alfred

**A/N: This is my first story. I hope it's not too bad. I only just wrote this a few hours ago, right after school ended. I know it might seem kinda slow, but this story will pick up later on, hopefully. We'll see. Enjoy!**

Chapter 1

Arthur's POV

"Watch out!"

Looking up from my phone a second too late, I stumbled as a young boy crashed into me. The phone got torn out of my hand and cracked once it hot the sidewalk. The glass Voss water bottle I had been holding shattered into pieces when it got knocked out of my hand. I was also knocked down, and because I had such great luck, my hands landed in the pile of shards. I could feel my face blazing from pain and anger as I gingerly picked myself up.

"YOU BLOODY GIT! WHY WON'T YOU BLOODY AMERICANS LOOK WHERE YOU'RE GOING?" I roared, shaking my hands.

"Ohmygod, I am so, so sorry! Oh, crap, we need to get you to the emergency room!" the boy frantically shouted.

Suddenly, a tall, American teenager pushed his way through the people that had suddenly begun to crowd around me. He gently took me by the shoulders and eased me up from the awkward crouch I was in. However, instead of letting me go, like I assumed he would, he lifted me up into his arms.

"Let go of me, you wanker!" I shouted. I was in a really good mood today.

"Here, lemme help you to the emergency room. I'll drive you there," he said, ignoring me. "Come on, Mattie. You're coming too." The younger boy didn't dare look at me as he walked beside me to what I assumed was his car.

Alfred opened the door for me and helped me into the passenger's side of the car. I noticed that the younger boy, Mattie, sat diagonally behind me, as to not disturb me again. Alfred got into the driver's seat, and drove off. He looked over with his big blue eyes at me, and smiled. I flushed, again. Inwardly, I cursed my cheeks for turning red at the most inopportune moments. I was pretty sure he was going above the speed limit, but I didn't say anything, because the shock was starting to wear off, and my hands were starting to hurt terribly.

(Alfred's POV)

I took off with the injured British guy in my car. _Wow, _I thought. _I will finally be a hero today! Maybe they'll put this heroic deed into the newspaper or somethin'. _

I sneaked a glance at the Brit's face. He was seventeen at the youngest. I couldn't help but stare at his eyebrows. They were huge! They reminded me of the last time I went to the zoo, where there were a bunch of really big caterpillars that had, like, a bunch of fur all over them. His eyes were green, exactly the color of emeralds. Although his eyebrows were really clown-like, his eyes complimented his sandy hair.

I turned back to the steering wheel. I could feel the Brit sneaking peeks at my face once every while. I didn't mind. I was doing the same thing to him. At one point, we both looked at each other at the same time. This caused him to blush deeply and look away quickly. I thought that was cute.

"My name is Arthur," a low, musical British voice said. "Thank you for taking me to the hospital."

"No probs, bro. Just being a hero, that's all! Oh, and by the way, this is my younger brother, Mattie." I pointed back to my brother.

"I gathered that," Arthur muttered.

(Arthur's POV)

After a slightly awkward ride to the emergency room, I got my hands picked clean of glass, and stitched. After that torture, I turned to Alfred.

"Where to, Artie?" Alfred said cheerfully.

I scowled at this, in order to not let him know that I liked this nickname. "Well, I'm a transfer student, and I just got off the plane from London. I'm staying at this address, with a Mr. and Mrs. Jones." I handed Alfred a slip of paper with the address on it.

Alfred looked up at me, astonished. "That's my house! You're gonna go to Woodchester High School, right?"

I nodded, speechless. Was I really going to stay at this person's home?

And so we drove off to his house. I was beginning to dread staying in America.

**A/N**

**I hope you enjoyed it! Please comment anything that is a problem, like any misspelled words or something like that. I would like to make this story better as it goes on, so any comments are extremely valuable in writing this story :)**

**Signing out now!**

**-Mitch**

**I do not own Hetalia, although I would love to. But, if I did own Hetalia, judging by the first chapter, it wouldn't be as good as the original version XD **


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Yaaay! Second chapter! I hope you guys liked the first one. Oh, and in the future, I might write a fanfiction about the Infernal Devices, so if you love Cassie Clare's books, well, you've just become my best friend. Oh, and, I'm not really familiar with the way Britains talk, so I apologize if I get anything wrong, or if I make Arthur start sounding like an American when he talks. I've only heard someone with a British accent once in my lifetime. Does an Australian accent count? Well, anyways, enjoy!**

Chapter 2

(Arthur's POV)

Ten minutes later, we arrived at Alfred's house. It was a little small, but I didn't really care. It was much bigger than my family's tiny flat in London. Anyways, I was only staying here for a year. The house was white with blue trimmings nearly as blue as Alfred's eyes, but the trimmings were a shade lighter.

Alfred fumbled in his pocket for his key, and then pointed at the flowerpot next to the door with his other hand. "That right there is where my mom keeps the spare key. Because heroes like me can't be everywhere at once, you'll have a spare key to save yourself if you ever get yerself locked out. Oh, and I'll give you the grand tour of the house when we get in." I rolled my eyes at his pronunciation of 'yourself'.

Once Alfred had rushed into the house, and Mattie had come in after me, he kicked the door closed loudly, and kicked his shoes off. I did the same thing, but put my shoes neatly in the closet next to the door,where Alfred had carelessly kicked his shoes into. I breathed in deeply, smelling chocolate and vanilla that seemed to come from a room farther into the house.

"Hey, Artie. Come in here. This way's the kitchen." Alfred led me into the pantry, the source of the wonderful chocolate and vanilla aroma I had smelled when I walked into the house.

"Hey Mom!" Alfred waved to a tall lady standing at the counter, who was stirring a bowl of chocolate cake batter.

"Hi, Alfie, how was your day? Oh, and who is this fine gentleman?" Alfred's mom gestured to me.

"It was alright, I guess. Mom, this is the guy that's going to stay at our house for a year. Remember the letter about the transfer student?" Alfred snuck a lick of the cake batter spoon.

"Oh! Right, sorry! I forgot all about it! Your name is Arthur Kirkland, right? Wait, Alfred, how did you meet Arthur? I forgot to tell you yesterday to pick Arthur up from the bus station."

"Uh, well-" Alfred's cheeks reddened slightly, but since I decided save him.

"We met when I was on the street. I had tripped over the sidewalk curb, and since my glass water bottle had shattered, and my hands had landed in the shards, Alfred took me to the emergency room to get my hands stitched up." I held my hands up for confirmation.

"Uh, yeah! That's what happened!" Alfred said too quickly. "I was a hero!"

"Oh, really? Well, it was nice to meet you, Arthur. Why don't you let Alfred take you to his bedroom? I'm sorry, but you'll have to share with him. Alfred's father and I adopted two other boys a few years ago, and they're sharing a bedroom too. One of the other two rooms belong to Mattie, and the last one is a guest room." And with that, Alfred's mom smiled apologetically at me, and went back to baking her cake.

Alfred and I went back out, and he led me through the living room, and into a section of the house where all of the bedrooms were.

As we walked down the hallway, Alfred pointed out the rooms to me. "The door on your right is Mattie's room, and the one next to that is the guest room. The one next to the guest room is my parent's room. The door on the left is Francis and Ludwig's room. Those were the two guys my mom was talking about earlier. Francis is from, well, France, and Ludwig is from Germany." We stopped in front of a door that had a Superman sign hanging in front of it. "This is my bedroom," Alfred said proudly, opening the door. "Whaddya think?"

The first thing I saw as I warily stepped into the room, was a huge superheroes' poster that covered nearly a third of the opposite wall. Tearing my eyes away from the atrocity, I perused the entire room **(peruse means to scrutinize, or look. Just lettin' you know :)). **The room was so big that it was nearly twice the size of my cell of a room back in London. Alfred's room was quite messy, with books stacked precariously on more stacks of comic books. Piles of dirty and clean clothes littered the floor. There were two beds, one with beige color sheets that were neatly tucked in at the corners, and the other with superhero sheets. Guess whose bed they belonged to? Obviously, it was Alfred's. Surprisingly, his sheets were not rumpled, as what the piles of clothes on the floor suggested. A small t.v. sat in a corner of the room, amidst a pile of video games. I wrinkled my nose at the selection of violent games he had. Two bookshelves were crowded against another wall, one full of yet more comic books, and another, to my approval, textbooks. There were two desks, both of which had crumpled McDonald food wrappers on. I turned to Alfred.

"Well?" Alfred prompted me.

"I guess it's okay. It's a lot bigger than my room back home." I admitted.

"So, where do you want to put your luggage-" Alfred stopped, widening his eyes. "Wait, I didn't see any luggage with you at the bus station. Don't you have any?"

I looked down at the ground. I wondered if I should tell him the truth. "My luggage got stolen somehow. I honestly don't know where they are now."

His eyebrows furrowed. "Wow, seriously? That's just plain wrong. Do you want me to call the airlines and the bus station for you to see if they know who took it?"

"N-no, that's okay. I didn't bring that much here with me." I stuttered.

"Oh, okay, then. Well, if you ever need anything, let me or my mom know. We'll get it for you if it's not too expensive." Alfred plopped onto his bed, and fell asleep at once.

I muttered obscenities under my breath as I swiped a large number of McDonalds' wrappers of of one of the desks. I carefully sat down on the creaky chair, and stared thoughtfully at at Alfred's sleeping form. My mind strayed back to the events of yesterday afternoon…

"_Father, please give me the airplane tickets." I growled._

"_You greedy bastard! First, you ask me if you can sign up for soccer when you were at the Academy, and now you fucking want expensive plane tickets to America! Are you bloody mad?" Father snarled. He took another swig from his half-empty bottle of beer, and hurled it at me. _

_I ducked, the spilled wine spattering on my white button-down shirt. The wine bottle smashed against the wall, joining the other shards of alcohol bottles I hadn't been able to clean up, which Father had thrown during one of his rages. This was obviously another one of them._

_Suddenly, his fist hit the back of my head, and a slip of paper floated down in front of me. Another hard fist smashed into my stomach. I clutched my head and abdomen, sinking down onto the floor, trying to bite back the tears of anger and pain that threatened to spill down my cheeks. I saw that the slip of paper was my airplane ticket._

"_Here's your filthy ticket. Don't ever come back until you've made enough money to support me," Father staggered back to the filthy couch, and slumped on it. In his hand was another bottle of beer. "Oh, and one more thing. You're not allowed to take any of the stuff I bought for you with my own money." He smeared the back of his hand against the dribble that was leaking out of his mouth._

"_You've never bought anything I needed! I've had to work my arse off since I was fifteen just to pay off the rent, and keep you happy with those vile drinks!" I shouted. _

_However, my father had heard none of this, as he had fallen asleep with the beer bottle clutched in his filthy hands. I stormed off to my room, seething. I jumped onto the bed, with the ticket still clutched in my fist. Just then, I caught sight of the photo of my mum and I that was sitting on my nightstand. I crawled over to the picture, and hugged it to my chest. _

"_Mum, I miss you so much." Finally, with the pressure and stress of my father weighing down on my shoulder like the skies on Atlas' shoulder, I finally broke down and sobbed, the pain and anger pouring out of me like the rushing torrents of a raging river. Hugging my mum's photo, and grasping the ticket as if it were my only tether to the world, exhausted, I finally fell asleep._

_When I woke up, it was near midnight. Not daring to take any of my belongings with me, except for the photo, I changed into clean clothes and tucked the photo and ticket into my pocket. I walked out of the door, not sparing a glance at my father, got a taxi, and got to the London Heathrow Airport. After all of the procedures with the airport security, I finally got onto the plane, and started to New York, where I would finally be able to have a fresh start with my life-at least, for a year._

Blinking away the last fragments of that particular memory, I started, finding that my eyes had strayed down to Alfred's abdomen. I had been busy admiring the strip of golden skin that had peeped out from where Alfred's shirt had ridden up to show part of his lean, muscled stomach.

I blushed for the countless time today, furiously chastising myself for admiring Alfred. _Quit looking at him like that, you wanker, _I thought. _Just because your interests lie in the other direction of that of most of your sex doesn't mean that he'll be gay, too! Besides, you barely even know him! He might have a girlfriend!_

I tore my eyes away from Alfred, and feeling tired from the events of earlier today, lay down on my bed, and fell asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow.

**A/N: I hope you liked it! This chapter was much longer than the previous chapter. I was debating on whether or not to reveal what Arthur's...hmm...tastes were in this chapter. I finally decided to. Well, thank you for reading! I apologize for anything I have gotten wrong with British slang, or for any grammar mistakes. I don't have a fixed schedule for writing, but I'll post every four to five days, depending on whether I get anything done or not.**

**I do not own Hetalia **


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